Apache Dawn: Book I of the Wildfire Saga (11 page)

“Where is this?” asked Charlie.
 
He tapped the screen.
 
“Are those bodies on the ground?” There were clusters of people gathering around them.

“…
All
Saints Memorial Hospital reports 327 cases of mystery Influenza-Like-Illness in the last three days, 73 of those in last 24 hours
…”

Cooper frowned.
 
“It’s not just L.A…
look
,” he said.
 
He turned the tablet around for his brothers-in-arms to see.
 
“That’s an article from the Seattle Times.
 
Flu-like cases three-times above normal for September.
 
I just did a search for spikes in flu cases and found this from Boston: over a hundred in the last 48 hours, seven fatalities.”
 
He scrolled down and said, “Here’s an article that just broke last night, out of Dallas.”
 
He whistled.
 
“Listen to
this
, guys.”
 
Cooper tapped a video embedded in the article and turned up the tablet’s speakers.
 

A female voice reported:
“The investigation into a mysterious illness in Tarrant County is expanding, as other hospitals and doctors report similar cases. The new case files are being reviewed for similarity to eight people currently at the Baylor Medical Center in Fort Worth, which prompted a Tarrant County Health Department investigation. Four of those eight patients died, and two are still fighting for their lives. A doctor, speaking on condition of anonymity told CBS-11,
‘
We don't currently have a diagnosis for what has caused those illnesses
,
other than influenza,’.”
 

Cooper looked up when the clip ended.
 
“That doesn’t sound too good.”

“Okay, so there’s a handful of people in Texas and a little group in L.A.,” started Charlie.

“Little?” asked Jax.
 
“That didn’t look little to me, man…”

“In a city of how many
millions
of people?
 
Yeah, I think less than a few thousand is ‘little’,” said Charlie, folding thick arms across his chest in skeptical defiance.

“They’re calling this thing an influenza-like illness,” said Cooper, looking down at the tablet again.

All three men looked back at the TV.
 
Scrolling across the bottom of the screen: “…
Influenza-like-illness shows unusually-high infection rate in areas along the coasts
…”
 

Cooper turned back to the tablet.
 
“Still, Charlie’s probably right, guys.
 
It may not be anything to get all worked up over, since there’s been…looks like 197 ILI cases in Fort Worth this month.
 
It’s just these 8 that are different. Looks like they all tested negative for standard strains of seasonal flu, which is weird.
 
I
guess
.
 
Hell, I don’t know, guys.”
 
Cooper turned the tablet off.
 
“I’m no doctor. The Navy pays me to kill bad guys, not heal people.”

“Hooyah, Master Chief,” said Jax, a fresh beer raised in salute.

“
Well, Danielle, you can see by these dramatic images that hospitals in Los Angeles are being swamped with flu or ILI cases.
 
It appears, according to the CDC, that an unusually cool, wet summer has created
ideal
conditions for the flu
,” said the anchorman with slicked back hair.
 
He looked at his papers and continued, “
Los Angeles
County officials assure us that the situation will be contained within a day or so, as stockpiles of antibiotics and flu medicine are being shipped in from unaffected areas of the state
.”

Charlie rolled his eyes.
 
“Pass me a cold one, Jax.”

“
Jim, the question I think our viewers want to hear
,” the camera pulled back to focus on an elegantly dressed Hispanic woman casually leaning over the anchor desk.
 
“
And I hate to even suggest it but…is this a repeat of The Pandemic?
 
I mean, if you look at those pictures—Dale, can we bring back the view of L.A.?
 
Yeah, there you go—does that ring a bell for anyone out there?
 
I know
I
remember seeing views like this at the beginning of the H5N1 Pandemic
.”
 
She shook her dark tresses in sadness.
 

File footage of bodies lining the streets during The Pandemic appeared on the screen.
 
TEN YEARS AGO flashed across the bottom of the image.

“
The big worry about a situation like this, Danielle
,” replied her smooth voiced co-anchor, “
is that according to what State Health officials told us early this morning, this particular ILI could certainly be one of a dozen different viruses, but it might not.
 
It might very well be H5N1 and I quote: ‘
that
is the big concern.
’”
 

“
Well, there are at least a few things our viewers can do, no matter
what
strain it is, right?
” asked the eye-candy.
 
She cocked her head as a list appeared on the screen next to her air-brushed face.
 
“
The Centers for Disease Control reminds everyone to stay calm and do their part to prevent any of these mystery illnesses from spreading: Wash your hands frequently; cover your cough but don't cough into your hands; stay home if you're sick; and get to the doctor within the first 24 hours of illness.
 
Common symptoms include…
”

All three turned when they heard a gasp come from behind them.
 
Aliana stood in the doorway to the house, hands at her mouth, staring at the TV.
 
She started to shake her head and took a step back, eyes tearing up.
 

“
Ooops,” exhaled Cooper.
 

Charlie rushed to his wife’s side.
 
“Allie, look at me, honey.
 
It’s
okay
,” he said when she turned her watery eyes on him.
 
He held her shoulders firmly, but gently.
 
“It’s just some people in L.A. getting sick.”

“But, Coop said—” she pointed.
 
“I
heard
him, he said it was in
Texas
, too.
 
A-and Boston
.
”

“I know, but…” he looked over his shoulder at the TV.
 
Jax moved to block her view.
 

“It’s
back
,” she said nodding.
 
“The Blue Flu.
 
It’s
back…”
she whispered.
 
“I
knew
it would come back…”

“Honey, we don’t know that—look, if that thing really
has
come back, they’d
know
it,” he said, jerking a thumb at the muted image of a man in a lab coat in front of a hospital in Washington, D.C.
 
“The docs would
know
it, honey.
 
They wouldn’t be screwing around like they did back then.
 
We know better how to fight it now, right?
 
They have a
vaccine
for it!
 
Hey—
look
at me—we’d be getting called back to base, wouldn’t we, if there was
really
some emergency?”
 
He pulled the secure, special-issue cell phone from his pocket and held it in front of her.
 
“See?” he said gently.
 
“No calls.”

She nodded, eyeing the government-issue plastic in his hand.
 
She shook her head.
 
“I can’t go through that again…” she whispered, wiping the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hands.
 
She sniffed loudly.
 
“Not with little Charlie…”
 
She suddenly looked at her husband.
 

“
This
is what Kevin called you about, isn’t it?” Aliana said and pointed an accusing finger at the TV.
 
“He works at the Goddamn CDC…
he
would know if that…
thing
…came back.”
 
She watched some more footage of the helicopter over the hospital in Los Angeles.
 
The camera zoomed in on a couple figures laying prone on the pavement outside the hospital.
 
A group of people crowded around the bodies. “Oh my God.”

“Honey…”
 
Charlie looked over his shoulder at the TV.
 
“I know it looks bad.
 
But all this is just…look, it’s the media trying to hype things up for the election.
 
Right guys?
 
It’s just—”

“Just
what
, Charlie?
 
The beginning of another
plague
?” she cried.
 
She burst into tears and wrenched herself away from Charlie and made for the house.

“No—it’s just
speculation!
 
It’s starting to get close to flu season…this happens every year…”
 
The patio door shut and she was gone.

 
“Smooth, Master Chief,
real
smooth,” said Cooper with a rueful grin.

“Stow it,
civilian
,” retorted Charlie with a glare that would have withered mere mortals.
 
He sat down in a chair and sighed, a hand to his forehead.
 
“Allie lost her parents to the Blue Flu.
 
It was pretty rough on her.
 
Her sisters and Kevin, they’re all she has left in the world now.
 
Her whole extended family got wiped out.”

“
Jesus
,” said Jax.

“You never mentioned
that
before,” said Cooper in a quiet voice.
 
He sat down next to Charlie.
 
“Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, well…not exactly a good conversation to have over beers, is it?” said Charlie with a dismissive wave of his hand.
 
He unmuted the TV.

“
−would say politics has no business in this situation, but apparently, the President is not going to change his campaign schedule for anything
,” the anchorman’s voice squawked behind them.
 
“So it seems the question of the day is, if the President isn’t concerned, should we be?”

“Now
you say it,” Charlie groaned.
 
“
Asshole
,” he hissed.
 
“Allie needed to hear that thirty seconds ago…”

“
That’s right,
” said Danielle, the co-anchor.
 
“
President Denton landed in San Diego earlier today.
”
 
The image on-screen switched to a shot of Air Force One gliding in to a perfect landing at a deserted looking airstrip.
 
“
He’s scheduled to make stops in Los Angeles, Sacramento and San Francisco over the next week, and many political insiders now suspect he will try to get some photo-ops to appeal to his base by lending a helping hand at area hospitals
…”

As the reporters bantered about the wisdom of political moves, Charlie shook his head.
 
“That ain’t right, man.
 
I know he’s the Boss, but damn, that’s
low
.
 
I need a drink.”

“Someone say something about beer?” called a voice around the corner.
 
A short man with a crew cut of jet black hair carrying an overflowing cooler with one arm strolled around the corner.
 
He wore red flip-flops, Hawaiian-style swim trunks, a towel around his neck, and aviator glasses perched on his aquiline nose.
 
He tilted his head down to see over the rims of the mirrored glasses and grinned, revealing a prominent gap in his front teeth.
 

“You ladies watching the soaps?”

“Hey, Beaver,” said Cooper with a grin.

“Master Ch—ah…hey, Coop,” replied Michael Holliday.
 
Charlie got a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll take me time to get used to it, too.
 
Don’t worry about it,” replied Cooper with a wave of his hand.
 
Damn, it really was going to take some time.
 
Retirement.
 
Ain’t
that
some shit.

“Mike!” called a woman’s voice.
 
“Can you get the gate?”

The dutiful husband put the cooler down and glanced at the TV on his way around the corner.
 
“We heard about all that flu stuff going down in San Francisco,” he called out.

“Yeah?” shouted Jax.
 
“It’s in L.A., too, man.”

Re-appearing with his comfortably plump wife in a one-piece black swimsuit and teenaged daughter, Jessica, Mike set down a bundle of towels and toys for the pool.
 

His wife waved casually at the others in the shade by the TV, looking past them at the open door.
 
“Hello, boys,” she said with a smile most moms reserve for their children.

“Hi, Joan,” they called out in unison like students greeting a teacher.

“Yeah,” Mike continued, removing his sunglasses.
 
“We heard a little on the radio.
 
They keep talking about how it’s just the seasonal thing.
 
No big deal.
 
Oh, hey, Jax—Swede and Tank just pulled up.
 
If you want to make sure you can get out of here before midnight, you better move your truck.”